Klaatu Barada Nikto! (That’s space talk for ‘I’m here!’)

I’m in Houston to report and write a print story about a science fiction convention.

I had a pleasant drive. I hit warp speed (my first sci fi reference) in Seguin and didn’t stop once. You can always pick me out on I-10 because I’m the guy not stopping at Bucee’s like the rest of you lemmings. Seriously — how much beef jerky does any person need?

I thought I’d see lots of strange things at the convention, but in the short time I’ve been here, it’s been tame. Of course, there are always those bigass Houston cockroaches. One of them was a bellhop at the hotel. Or maybe a roach just carried off my luggage.

It was raining when I got here, which is good, because Houston could

always stand more moisture and humidity.

Houston is nice at this time of year because the humidity creates interesting mildew patterns on your shirt, while you’re wearing it. If you get caught outside for a long time, your Polo shirt gets sweaty and before you know it, you end up looking like Rorschach from “The Watchmen.”

Also, the humidity causes stray bullets to travel farther, so it’s always best to stay away from Hijack Stations, or what we in SA refer to as “intersections.”